Chapter 52

Chapter 52 Chapter 52: An Adult Male Who Enthusiastically Picks You Up From Work…

“Buzz.”

In the buffet restaurant attached to the hotel, a faint vibration suddenly rang out.

The secretary sitting opposite her boss at the table glanced sideways and confirmed that it was the phone placed on the table by the young man lighting up.

This business trip had gone extremely smoothly in terms of the cooperation project, yet CEO Jian’s condition was the exact opposite—he looked listless overall, as if he had caught a cold, with a slight nasal tone when speaking.

Moreover, based on her years of work experience, although the boss’s expression hadn’t changed and he cooperated with all social engagements, his mood was definitely not good.

The proof was that at the negotiation table, CEO Jian went all out and shaved off a full five percentage points from the other side, saving the company a large sum of money.

“Boss,” the young man liked quiet, and he deliberately avoided peak dining hours every day. With the surroundings almost empty, the secretary reminded him when she saw him overly focused on drinking his porridge, “Message.”

The slightly fatigued Jian Qing slowly came back to his senses.

Because he was away from Beijiang and his phone contained confidential data, he had enabled privacy protection. The WeChat popup only showed that there was a new message.

Thinking it was a routine report from the Beijiang headquarters, Jian Qing casually opened it—but unexpectedly saw a certain Samoyed that had been quiet for several days.

There was no text, only an image.

On it were red-circled temperatures for A City for the next two days, along with outfit suggestions provided by an app.

He Linfeng.

His fingertips brushed past the chat box icon on the left—a silly dog avatar sticking out its tongue and smiling. Jian Qing let out a faint sigh. After several days of sudden silence, he thought they had already reached some tacit understanding between adults.

But in the end, he had underestimated He Linfeng’s persistence, patience—or rather, courage.

The secretary, secretly observing, quietly picked up a shrimp dumpling, her brain working rapidly: just who could make the boss show such a gentle expression?

Yes, gentle.

Although the corners of his mouth still fell far short of a smile, the moment he finished reading the message, the young man’s eyes and brows softened, easing the distance created by his gold-rim glasses.

That so-called “rumored boyfriend” who often came to the company to show his face?

Aside from that, she truly couldn’t think of anyone else who fit the criteria.

Before the secretary could analyze further, the young man with lowered crow-feather eyelashes suddenly put on a stern face and set his phone down, even flipping the screen face-down completely.

From the only angle the table could see, two new messages lay in the chat box, triumphantly “showing off”:

[Typing for five minutes.]

[Is it that hard to accept my concern?]

Not someone who frequently used social apps, Jian Qing laboriously recalled that this green-and-white speech-bubble messaging app would show a “typing…” status if someone entered a chat within ten seconds.

And the secretary’s timely, considerate reminder just happened to land him right on the ten-second threshold.

[Fine.]

[Take it as you know.]

[I’m watching the news. The suit looks very handsome—better put on a coat too.]

Buzz buzz buzz.

The phone vibrated three times in a row. The secretary lowered her gaze, pretending to be deaf, and focused entirely on the breakfast in her tray.

—As mentioned before, CEO Jian returned late during business trips, which just so happened to suit this wage earner who liked sleeping in and staying up late.

Noticing the abnormal stop in A City that had been added to the boss’s itinerary, as if struck by inspiration, the secretary asked one more question before leaving the restaurant and heading to the elevator: “Are we still taking tonight’s flight back?”

As the most competent assistant of the group, if her superior wanted to avoid someone, she could find ten thousand legitimate reasons to let him “work” in A City for two more days.

Jian Qing: …

“Mm.” He adjusted his glasses and calmly explained, as if it were nothing unusual, “The police just came to see me. Of course, as always, it won’t involve the company.”

The secretary nodded in cooperation: “Alright.”

Across the entire country, there was probably no company more accustomed to its boss being taken to the police station than the Jian Corporation.

“Do you need me to send you directly to the Major Case Team after landing?” she confirmed the schedule again with practiced professionalism. “Or do you need someone to pick you up?”

“Someone?”

Jian Qing looked confused.

The secretary said seriously: “For example, that adult male who is very enthusiastic about picking you up from work.”

Jian Qing: …

These two options were completely identical.

“Alright,” as if she had already expected his reaction, the secretary calmly continued, “The itinerary remains unchanged. After landing, I will take you back to the residential area.”

Due to his past terrifying experience of a car accident that ended in a plunge into a river, CEO Jian rarely used a driver when traveling. In special circumstances like illness, it was usually her who took over.

But as expected, the police thing was just an excuse.

Her boss had always been upright and unafraid of shadows—how could he possibly resist a simple inquiry from the Major Case Team.

The more she tried to clarify, the more it looked suspicious. Jian Qing closed his mouth tightly, trying to silently judge the person disrupting his life in his mind—but in the end, he still did not manage to curse him.

Meanwhile, He Linfeng, holding a thermos cup of coffee, sneezed heavily.

“Getting a cold?” asked Zhou Shan, the oldest in the team, opening a drawer. His “maternal father” tendencies were becoming more and more obvious. “I’ve got some Banlangen granules here.”

Based on his thirty-plus years of living in Beijiang, the city would definitely get snow in another week or two.

He Linfeng pulled out a tissue and rubbed the tip of his nose. “No.”

“Someone’s thinking about me from far away.”

Understanding what he meant, Wang Lai glanced at the desk: thinking about him? What a joke—if CEO Jian didn’t show up soon, the black cat thermos cup He Fox had specially bought would be gathering dust.

“If you’re not feeling well, don’t force it,” said Yan Qiuyu without even looking up, buried in a pile of clues to integrate. “The duty-room old guard said you were in the archive room pulling an all-nighter again last night.”

He Linfeng brushed off the important point: “Looking for inspiration.”

His intuition told him that ever since the massacre case, Jian Qing had always had some kind of hidden connection with certain suspects—and that the other party did not want this connection to be discovered.

Before the truth came to light, he was willing to help conceal it slightly.

After all, Jian Qing had already proven his character through his actions: although somewhat cold, he was far from heartless.

“Zhu Qiang is indeed suspicious,” Yan Qiuyu, who had roughly heard Song Xiaotong’s report, naturally assumed He Linfeng was investigating the warehouse bone case. “He is currently a contractor for a cultural park project.” And this detail could not be seen at all from the basic internal records or bank statements.

Wang Lai was surprised: “A contractor? Where did he get the money?” Whether it was tens of thousands or hundreds of thousands in advance payments, by any calculation it was an amount Zhu Qiang could hardly afford.

“I’m not sure,” Yan Qiuyu replied, “The relevant procedures are compliant and legal. If it is confirmed to be true, at the latest next month he will have to move out of the low-rent housing building.”

He Linfeng: “When did the project start?”

Yan Qiuyu: “About a year and a half ago.”

“That’s a bit too much of a coincidence,” Wang Lai murmured. “I remember the autopsy report said Tong Tong’s remains were moved within the last two years.” Adding the early procedural stages of the project approval, it perfectly aligned with Zhu Qiang’s sudden wealth.

He Linfeng quickly typed keywords and pulled up related reports: “…The construction company is Hongda Construction.”

Zhou Shan froze for a moment: “That sounds really familiar.”

“The amusement park, the amusement park! The one Xu Hao and a bunch of kids went to check in at,” Wang Lai said, his thoughts turning darker the more he considered it, getting excited, “And also, Yuan Yun—the entertainment company from the karaoke night they organized that evening—it’s also under the Hongda Group.”

Model Yuan Yun, the first victim in the disfigurement-and-throat-slitting case. Although the murderer changed from Chen Yang to Wu Nan, he had always remained on the hunting list.

Rubbing his arms hard, Wang Lai muttered, “Oh my god.”

“That’s giving me chills.”

“Stop, stop,” Zhou Shan, comparatively more rational, objected. “The Hongda Group has businesses in all sorts of industries. It could just be a coincidence.”

Wang Lai turned around: “Fox He, what do you think?”

The man who was called by name shook his head: “I’m neutral.”

“Let’s first dig into Hongda Construction.”

Yan Qiuyu, deliberately keeping one ear on the discussion, could not hide his satisfaction: “See? See? Learn from this. Bring me evidence before you argue.”

Wang Lai, who talked the most, obediently responded: “Yes, sir!”

“But let me finish my emotional reaction first.”

“The standard for young entrepreneurs in our city is a celebrity face, huh. No wonder Hongda is moving into the entertainment industry.”

Unexpectedly, no one in the office showed curiosity. The outsider He Linfeng even delivered a precise rebuttal: “I can tell your TV doesn’t have Beijiang Finance Channel.”

“I’m not like you, I can only rely on the news…” he cut himself off awkwardly and forcefully changed the topic, “This guy is actually pretty handsome, huh.”

In the Baidu Encyclopedia photo, the young man named Yuan Kui had delicate features, pale and frail. At first glance, he bore some resemblance to Jian Qing, but his aura was even more melancholic.

Scrolling further down, it showed that at the age of eight he had suffered a high fever, followed by a five-year coma. Even after growing up, he remained chronically ill, adding a touch of legend to his résumé.

Wang Lai: fortune and misfortune are intertwined.

Looking at CEO Jian, then at Yuan Kui—this kind of overwhelming “luck” really wasn’t something just anyone could handle.

That evening.

The dust-covered “CEO Jian” safely arrived at the apartment.

Considering the passive “ice-breaking” caused by his operational mistake in the morning, he had even prepared for He Linfeng lying in wait for him—but the hallway was completely empty.

Jian Qing’s steps paused slightly as he exited the elevator.

After unlocking the door and entering, he raised his hand and quietly removed his thick long coat.

The room had not been cleaned for several days, but it was still generally tidy. He casually placed his suitcase beside the shoe cabinet, then leaned forward and collapsed into the sofa.

This was the environment he was most familiar with.

Stretching out his arm to reach the medicine box placed under the coffee table, Jian Qing pulled at the floor lamp and immediately saw the newly dated fever-reducing capsules placed on the top shelf.

He Linfeng’s things.

Even the sofa he was lying on had been slept on by the other party for most of the night.

Jian Qing suddenly felt a bit irritated.

In a petty, stubborn manner, he snapped the medicine box shut, stood up, and went to the kitchen to get water. Opening the refrigerator’s fresh-keeping compartment, he saw half a block of bright red hotpot base firmly occupying the center position, tightly sealed with a clip.

Jian Qing: …

Jian Qing decided to first soak the clothes in his suitcase.

But what his fingertips touched was a paper triangular talisman.

—Earlier, when washing the hiking sportswear, Jian Qing had casually placed it in the cabinet that held various cleaning supplies, and later forgot to take it out.

“I really am sick.”

Pressing his palm against his forehead, he calmly mocked himself.

So a momentary bout of emotional weakness could be understood.

Thus, Jian Qing simply gave up the struggle against He Linfeng’s traces, went out, turned right, and obediently took his medicine with bottled water.

He was tired, and a little sleepy.

The matter of drawing a clear line between himself and the original novel’s character.

He would deal with it tomorrow.